Friday Night at the Blacksmiths

The sad looking cake above epitomizes our Friday Night dinner. I know, according to recent tradition, I post a recipe or some cooking on a Friday. But, yesterday (it's now Saturday) I could not even face getting close to the kitchen. Friday night dinner was at blackwifeo's family. For the sake of argument lets call them the Blacksmiths. It was one of our Canadian visitors, Adena's 19th birthday. So the girls baked cakes. Above is a "cream cheese icing covered carrot cake", no it's not sweetcorn on toast. They also made a "pecan nut cheese cake" (the crust was the best part, I wonder who make that?). It's the thought that counts.

To give just a taste of the hell that was last night's dinner, here are some facts. The very, very religious uncle and aunt are in from Miami. Uncle Blacksmith fancies himself as a cantor, and kept bursting into loud prayer. The fake chopped liver had to sit out in the heat until Maariv, an extended vocal rendition of the Kiddush, a hand wash and the Motzi was completed. The air-conditioner in their apartment works as well as honesty in government (that is not at all). Due to the strictly kosher basis of the meal, cold meats and salads were the order of the day. The vegetarians were once again exposed to my mother-in-law's inability to cook simple pasta. It was overcooked, unpleasantly spicy and lacked salt. My hyperactive nephews drank two bottles of Coke and proceeded to bounce up and down, loudly. Our boy, was miserable, not feeling well, and walked around looking like Armageddon would be more fun than this. It would have been. They ran out of ice early. Even the cakes were below par.

The Blacksmiths are a kindly bunch. They look out for each other, cook for each other, care for each other, call each other at least ten times a day and love nothing more than getting together for a nice rowdy Friday Night Dinner. It's all very touching. Please next time can I just stay home.